


Thief

by Wingstar102



Category: NCIS
Genre: Author regrets nothing, Cheesy, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, NFA Challenge Response, New Year's Eve Challenge, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wingstar102/pseuds/Wingstar102
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abby's cookie "request" is the least of McGee's problems...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thief

~~~  
  
Tim’s bright green eyes went wide. “You want me to what?”  
  
“I want you to bring cookies to the New Year’s Eve party we’re having at the Bossman’s house.” Abby shook her head, exasperation with him apparent. “I know you can bake Timmy. Just bring those deep fried cookies you brought for Christmas. You know which ones I mean?”  
  
Sighing loudly, Tim leaned back in his desk chair and nodded. “Yeah, Abby, I know which ones.”  
  
Abby flounced away immediately after that, as much as she could flounce in platform boots anyway, and Tim sighed again, tired. He was really not looking forward to New Year’s Eve. Really, _really_ not looking forward it.   
  
He’d originally planned to spend a quiet evening alone at home. But no. Instead he was expected to go to Gibbs’ house and _socialize_. With Gibbs. Worse, it wasn’t in a work situation and “shop talk” while they were supposed to be spending time as family would send Abby through the roof. He knew, just knew to the very bottom of his soul, that he was going to blurt something profoundly embarrassing about his pathetic feelings about their team leader. At best, he could look forward to awkwardness between him and Gibbs for the rest of his career and, at worst, transfer to the Antarctic. Thanks to Abby’s habit of “volunteering” him, there wasn’t any good way to gracefully decline the invitation and send the desserts with somebody else without questions.  
  
Nothing to be done about that, so he focused on the practical for now. The cookies that Abby wanted him to bring were a marathon to make right. Each cookie had to be fried individually in an iron and, at twenty four cookies a batch and considering how popular they were at Christmas, he’d have to make two batches just to be sure there were enough. Then he would have to make another double batch of some other kind of cookie for variety. And, on top of all that, he’d have to make an entirely different kind of dessert on the off chance that if everyone got tired of cookies, they could eat something else.  
  
Because, knowing Abby, she wouldn’t think to ask anyone else to bring a dessert too. Tim though, being the perfectionist he is _and_ knowing after years of experience from helping his mother and grandmother cook for parties, had figured it would take a bit more than just what she wanted.  
  
Tim pulled out his phone and began typing in a list, worried that he wouldn’t be able to get everything he needed, with New Year’s Eve being the next evening. And the stores would definitely be packed, everyone picking up either their whole shopping list or last minute stuff. Happily, he had most of the standard baking ingredients already, but he needed eggs and instant espresso and fresh cherries as well as preserves.  
  
Once his list was done, and the last of the paperwork finished for the case that the team had just closed, Tim grabbed his heavy coat and left. _First stop, the market. I’m really not looking forward to this either,_ he sardonically thought. _Not at all._  
  
~~~  
  
After dropping keys on the counter and giving Jethro a quick head scratch, Tim unloading the bag of ingredients that took him an hour to find. His suspicions about how crowded the grocery stores were had been right. It was so bad that he’d almost been punched by a guy over the last container of instant espresso. Thankfully, his badge was still clipped to his belt, visible because his coat was unbuttoned, and the man decided the espresso really wasn’t worth a night in jail. None of the other things had been any easier to get, but that incident was the closest his shopping had come to violence.  
  
Quickly changing out of his work clothes and into threadbare jeans and an old t-shirt, Tim started piling the items needed for espresso cookies onto the small counter top space next to the sink and settled in for a long night of baking in his tiny kitchen.  
  
~~~  
  
Tim was in hell, he was sure. As soon as he walked through his boss’ overly decorated door, overloaded with sweets and his large dog Jethro, he’d been a stumbling, shy mess. First, he’d almost tripped over his dog coming into the house, then _had_ bumped into Gibbs while trying to make his way to the kitchen through the crowded living room. Didn’t stop there either. Almost dropped one of the cookie containers when trying to shuffle the food around the kitchen counter so that he could set them down, and _did_ drop a beer when he tried to clear out a space in the fridge to put the two cheesecakes he made.  
  
The night never seemed to get any better after that. He came within a hairsbreadth of wearing the cranberry sauce _and_ gravy when he helped Gibbs and Ducky move their feast from the kitchen to the garishly decorated dining room so everyone could eat, by tripping over Tony and Jethro goofing off in the walkway. Only thing that saved him from that fate was Gibbs’ large and sturdy hands catching and steadying Tim’s own hands, making Tim blush hard.  
  
But the worst part of the whole party was the mistletoe, which Tim was sure was supposed to already be taken down.  
  
At first glance, it obviously seemed like the same Christmas decorations that Abby had put up for that get-together and their boss had just not bothered to take them down yet. Looking closer had Tim biting back a groan of despair. _Of course_ she had to add more. No doubt that Ziva helped Abby, knowing that both women would be amused at the kind of uncomfortable havoc mistletoe could cause.  
  
Sure enough - and with that much mistletoe hanging around, it was unavoidable - the damn plant started causing problems almost immediately. Jimmy and Tony were the first groaning and whining victims, and Ziva couldn’t stop herself from taking photos, for blackmail, he was certain.  
  
Luck was acting like it was on his side though. He had managed to avoid being trapped with anyone under the cursed plant for the majority of the evening. He did have a few close calls, mostly with his boss and one with Ducky. The closest was while pulling Tony’s cold potato salad out of the fridge to set on the table. He hadn’t noticed Gibbs behind him until he backed into him. Only the fact that he was tall and needed to be a certain distance to bend comfortably had saved them from the mistletoe hung directly over the appliance. Didn’t save him from the flushed, stuttering, embarrassing mess he became immediately after bumping into the solid, warm chest.  
  
Spent the rest of the night - until the countdown at least - dodging Gibbs and hoping nobody noticed his avoidance of the older man.  
  
~~~  
  
Standing around the boss’ old-ish radio that had been brought up from the basement - instead of the ancient, snow-prone TV - and listening to the New York ball drop from Times Square was by far the most boisterous part of the night, and that was saying something. Tony and Abby were chattering with each other at the speed of light. Ziva, Breena and Ducky seemed to be having a laugh over the mistletoe madness pictures on Ziva’s camera. Jimmy was at his side happily trying, and failing, to engage in a conversation with him and Gibbs was sort of casually leaning against the entrance to the hallway, not very far from McGee actually, which only served to make him a more little nervous. Although, if Tim would let himself think about it, Gibbs hadn’t been far from him all night. The conclusions he’d want to draw from that tidbit excited and scared him.   
  
Not that he would admit it or, hopefully, show it.  
  
Once the sixty second warning went out over the airwaves though, everyone packed in close, attempting to get the entire team sorted around and not wanting to miss the last ten seconds. McGee, trying to shuffle over a bit so that Breena could stand next to Jimmy without stepping on Ducky, didn’t really notice Gibbs stealthily moving up behind him.  
  
He couldn’t miss it the last ten seconds though. Not when he felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck stir and smelled the faint scent of the bourbon Gibbs liked waft past his nose. A quick glance told him that Gibbs was _very_ close to his back, but just as Tim noticed, the ten count started.  
  
 _Ten…_  
  
The joyous call-out drew his attention away from Gibbs, back to the people that was just as much family as his sister.  
  
 _Nine…_  
  
 _Eight…_  
  
His attention shifted again when he felt his boss edge the slightest bit closer, enough so that his chest was pressed against Tim’s back. The husky murmur echoing the countdown in time with the rest of the room in his ear was very intimate, almost as if they were sharing some secret. Tim didn’t know what was going on in the other man’s mind, but obviously Gibbs wanted to be this close for his own reasons, and Tim was hungry enough for Gibbs’ touch that he didn’t object, even though he wouldn’t push for further contact.  
  
 _Seven…_  
  
 _Six…_  
  
 _Five…_

_Four…_  
  
The accumulating excitement made the living room almost vibrate with the happy energy of all the people in it. Tim however was buzzing was with a different kind of excitement and he really hoped the long sweater he wore hid it from the rest of his team, especially Gibbs. Something like that would make his team, if they noticed, curious and ask questions he didn’t want to answer. But just as the last three seconds were run down, his heart jumped up to a faster beat when Gibbs’ hand laced together with his own. Looked like, if the rough hand unexpectedly clasping his own was anything to go by, his boss knew what he was feeling. How, Tim had no idea.  
  
Trying to process all the reasons for the hand holding his own, trying to figure how his boss had figured out his feelings, had him frozen in shock for those two precious seconds, and Tim couldn’t really move until his boss used their joined hands to jerk him around just as the count reached one.   
  
And stole the first kiss, and heart, of their New Year, with an eager press of lips and their team cheering loud, not only in celebration. They cheered for their boss finally making his move on their probie after watching them pine for each other for so long.  
  
And they weren’t even standing under any of the damn mistletoe.  
  
~~~  
  
End


End file.
